Unto those who read these words does Maitresse Yvianne de Castel d’Avignon send fond greetings on this twenty second day of July AS xxxviii, being 2003 by common reckoning.
Since I have received word that many rejoice greatly in hearing the tales of gallantry and prowess from the Rose Royal Tournaments and further know that these accounts serve to increase the bright reputation of AEthelmearc, as much as lies in my power to keep the memory of them alive, I will continue to do my humble best to preserve the sights, sounds and proceedings of these glorious events.
As the day for the fourth Rose Royal Tournament dawned, such a curtain of mist was in the air that at times I feared we would surely lose our way to Saint Swithins Bog. By mid morning the fog had parted enough that we made good progress and arrived on site with ample time to spare before the tourney was to begin. We quickly saw to greeting our hosts for the day and joined those erecting galleries and pavilions on the tourney field at the foot of a hill, but well within sight of the main hall.
The Royal pavilion was already set, filling an entire side of the list. It was well decorated with banners, thrones and vases full of roses ... and many chairs had been placed within in anticipation of the noble audience that would fill Her Majesty's Gallery. A common gallery had been placed to one side and several other pavilions completed a row that formed the far side of the list. Duchess Dorinda arrived to lay claim to the open spot on the remaining side of the Royal pavilion facing the list. Next to Her Grace’s gallery, those who had traveled with me began erecting a small round pavilion suitable for arming and providing enough shade to spare us from the sun that was by this time shining intensely from the brilliant blue sky. In no time not only was our pavilion set, but others had also been placed down the length of the row and the list was completely surrounded on three sides by well appointed galleries filled with joyous spectators and eager combatants. It seems wherever the list is set for these tourneys a magic takes hold and for a while time stands still … mingling past and present in a breathtaking spectacle. My heart and mind are full of delight and wonder just recalling the splendid view. So much does the scene of the listfield, complete with pavilions and heraldry, fighters, consorts and our always present heralds, stick with me that if I close my eyes, I can almost imagine myself standing on the rough ground with the sound of banners and canvas flapping in my ears and feel the warm sun on my face.
Forasmuch as I have gone on about the perimeter of the list field, the fine regalia and noble populace, the tournament itself beyond words or measure cause all of those things previously mentioned to pale in comparison. I was bestowed an honor far above my station and invited to join Her Majesty, Maurya, in the Royal Pavilion and while she most graciously extended open invitation to all, I was overwhelmed at having my chair placed where my view of the tournament was totally unobstructed. To be sure I enjoyed my vantage and used it to take note of many of the day's happenings. The first undertaking of the day was for the heralds to introduce and Their Majesties welcome all who wished to take part in the tournament, both combatant and consort. Many entered in the list did take this moment to praise the virtues of their Ladies. To hear a strong and valiant fighter speak in low tones of the love he has for his loyal consort is a moving experience, and the gentle ladies looked on, many with a tear in their eye and smile of gratitude gracing their lips. Even after many years of marriage, my own lord moved me to tears with his words and token in honor of the anniversary of the day we first said our vows. The Captain of the Queen’s Guard, His Lordship Jacopo, touched the heart of many by extolling not only his love for his Lady, but also his love of the Kingdom of AEthelmearc. Despite being advanced in age from most armored combatants, and knowing that his greater prowess lay in the noble sport of archery, he nonetheless took to the field to enjoin in noble combat in homage to his Lady and his Queen.
After introductions, the invitational portion of the tournament began as combatants challenged an opponent in reverse Order of Precedence. Upon completion of this undertaking, all left the field to make ready for their bouts. As before there were an uneven number of entrants. His Lordship Georg was without an opponent, but nonetheless he was also sent to prepare for combat. The format would remain secret until just before his match. At her Majesty’s request, no questions were asked of the combatants during this round … although several ladies chose to bestow roses in recognition of feats of prowess or acts of chivalry. Lord Havoc and His Grace, Duke Sir Cygnus fought a pass with polearms that eventually left both of them fighting with their weapons held in but one hand. And while a bout between fighters having been placed at such disadvantage is often dull, this one was most entertaining and thrilling to the end. Another bout between His Lordship Graedwyn and His Lordship Caoilean Seanchaid, called Tower, was also most memorable. After many shots were thrown and deftly repelled, and after the bout had ended, as both combatants knelt in the middle of the list breathing heavily from their efforts, The Honorable Lord Caoilean reached out and held his shield in such a position as to shade His Lordship Graedwyn from the glare of the sun. This small gesture did not escape the notice of the Galleries. It was indeed most courteous and noteworthy that two men of such skill and merit had entered the list and fought with full endeavor to best each other … then in the blink of an eye, to offer comfort to another rather than tend to one’s own. Such gallant and chivalrous deeds while rare in other tournaments seem to be at place in these Rose Royal Tournaments.
And when all had fought their first bout save one, His Lordship Georg approached the Gallery for instructions. Her Majesty informed him that he was to compete against His Majesty, Christopher, and the two would have only words as a weapon. The pair put their heads together and far too quickly decided to join forces and entertain the Ladies of the Gallery with a song instead of wield their weapons against each other. As with one voice they began to sing, “Born on the Listfield”. Voices merged in unison for the better part of the song, until it was revealed that they had in oral tradition learned from two different sources. While the two versions were dissimilar, I recognized them both. One was popular in AEthelmearc when I first heard the song almost 10 years ago and the other a newer version that has recently become more often sung. It was the old united with the new and in an instant I knew this also to be true of many things that surrounded me. There were several gentles attending their first event while others had been to so many events that they have forgotten more of them than most of us can recall ... novice tourney fighters taking arms to join in combat side by side with Crown Tourney regulars ... the children of AEthelmearc playing near those who can easily recall the time before this realm had a Prince, let alone a King. I closed my eyes briefly, partly to allow my other senses to take pleasure in the moment and partly to keep tears from forming. I opened my eyes as the populace joined in to sing the ending refrain ... and despite my endeavor, I could no longer prevent the flow of tears.
After a moment, a Grand Melee was called for to allow the Mistress of the List some time to hastily set things in order for the next round. From my vantage I could not only see well, but also hear the words the noble opponents spoke to each other. Mixed amid the cries of “I am dead m’lord” and “Well struck” … I heard the combatants beseech their opponents not to accept poorly placed or inadequate blows and ask an adversary, already at a disadvantage having lost his legs, if he would prefer to position himself so the sun was not shining directly in his face. Such gracious conduct serves not to lessen, but highlight the chivalry and honor of those who display it. The fighters had on a previous occasion been given instruction by Duchess Dorinda not to let the more experienced combatants stay well out of reach until the melee was well underway. Her sage advice went unheeded and part way through the battle, Syr Bear had still not been engaged in combat. In a right and honorable manner, he sallied forth and sought out suitable opponents. At the conclusion of the melee, for not recalling Her Grace’s guidance the participants in the melee were chastised and for his fairness, Syr Bear was given a token from the good Duchess.
The next round was fought as a best of three engagements. As I have not mentioned it before, I will mention now that there was a small area on the field, clearly marked as protected. Not because it contained a hazard, but because it contained a small patch of daisies. During their bouts, Lord Marduke and Lord Lothar fought with dagger above it as if it were a barrier. The victor of the passes was Lord Marduke, who was proclaimed Lord Protector of the Daisies … but with much glee this honorable title was quickly changed to Lord of the Daisies, to the delight to those in attendance. Lord Marduke was soon after charged by the Gallery to face those who were unfortunate enough to trod upon the daisies as they were caught up in the heat of combat. Though admittedly, His Lordship Aengus and Lord Cynwrig bore no ill will towards the fragile flowers, they each were required to fight three passes against Lord Marduke in various weapons forms. Lord Marduke was victorious in all of these bouts, further increasing his fame and renown as Lord of the Daisies.
It was also during this round that Sir Mord, who was marshalling at this point of the tournament was asked to explain what he meant when he asked the fighters to salute their thrice worthy opponent. Though I had heard these words many times before I was never enlightened to their meaning. The explanation went thusly: the combatants are once worthy by virtue of their honor, twice worthy by virtue of their prowess, thrice worthy by virtue of their chivalry. Noble words indeed to acknowledge a fellow brother at arms.
Many words were also spoken by the Royalty who took part in the tournament. His Royal Highness, Henri, spoke on what it means to be Prince and the heavy burden he prepares to assume, not for promise of glory but for the good people of AEthelmearc. His Majesty of the East, Darius, following his fight with Lord Havoc was asked to share words of advice with all, but most especially, His Highness. He spoke in kind and loving tones of His people and all that they have given to Him without fail and of His admiration for those who perform even the smallest task that reduces the burden of the Crown or brings glory to His Realm. Lord Havoc, who has fought in an AEthelmearc Crown list, was asked what he had learned from listening to the words of His Majesty. He responded by saying he now understands a little more of the obligation of the Crown to the populace and the desire to give back to those who serve.
The Invitational portion of the tourney concluded and the Ladies of the Galleries shared with each other and Her Majesty their preferences for fighters they wished to see advance. The list was close to being decided upon. Only the Ladies could not pare the list down to less than ten even though only eight combatants would face each other in a single elimination tournament to decide who would take home honors this day. His Lordship Jacopo, Lord Marduke and Lady Talishar had to chose between them which one would receive invitation to participate. After many kind words were shared in praise of each other, it was decided that His Lordship Jacopo would fight on. As a gesture of consolation, the two fighters who graciously allowed another to continue in the tourney faced each other for the pure pleasure of engaging in noble combat. Royalty who were given invitation into the fourth Rose Royal Tournament were, King Darius of the East and Duke Sir Cygnus. In a most chivalrous display of generosity, Duke Sir Cygnus asked the Ladies of the Gallery for permission to withdraw from the tournament, but allow Lord Kjott to continue in his stead. Two others had previously received invitation to compete in this Rose Royal, His Lordship Aengus by virtue of his prowess and Lord Vladisla by virtue of being chosen as the Gallery’s choice at the tournament in Delftwood. His Lordship Jacopo joined the remainder of the combatants chosen by the Ladies of the Gallery: Sir Isenwulf, Baron Tristen and The Honorable Lord Caoilean Seanchaid, called Tower.
While the invitational tournament fills many hours of the day, the Rose Royal itself flies by all too quickly. Not to diminish the feats of those who participated, but to hasten my missive to its conclusion, I will leave the details of each bout to the memories of those in attendance. Though I daresay I would be remiss if I did not mention a bout that was not on the tree prepared by the Mistress of the List, a fast paced display of expertise between Prince Henri and Duke Sir Cygnus that took place around this time. Their swords flashed through the air and blows followed so quickly one after the other that their movements were often hard to follow. Sir Cygnus was at last declared the winner of their bout, but to be certain it was not an effortless victory, but one that had been earned through proficiency gained by years of practice. The final pairing of the day placed His Majesty of the East against Baron Tristen. They fought fiercely and with skill and might and in the end, it was King Darius who was triumphant in besting all, thus winning the Rose Royal Tournament. By acclaim of the Ladies, His Highness, Henri, was announced as the Gallery’s choice.
After the Tournament, all of those who had entered the list knelt before Their Majesties and Their Court. The victors and several others who also had proven themselves in the list chose prizes. At this time it was also announced that Sir Isenwulf, Baron Tristen and my beloved, the Honorable Lord Aengus were being invited to participate along with the former Crowns of AEthelmearc in the next Rose Royal Tournament to be held at Summer’s End in the Canton of Beau Fleuve. It was a bittersweet moment as my joy at hearing such good news was cut short when I realized it would also be the final tournament of this series.
And so my friends, here ends my chronicle of the Fourth Rose Royal Tourney. Word that War is close has reached my ears and I must go to prepare. I bid you farewell and wish you good health.
Yvianne